Fulfillment
by Ocean Mint Leaves
Summary: Birthday Gift fic for Captain Ozone. The Old Religion has been waiting for this moment since the beginning of time... and so has Merlin. The Golden Reign rises with the newborn sun. Oneshot. No Slash.


I'm quite proud of myself for managing to do this in less than three hours although the worst was looking for a title. After half an hour of intense research I finally came up with one, and here we are :D

This is dedicated to Captain Ozone, an amazingly talented author on this boards and truly wonderful person. Happy birthday you unbelievable writer you! I remember a few months ago you'd asked me to write the court sorcerer appointment scene and this is what I came up with. :)

Ah, but before you start reading, here are the songs you should listen to, believe me it will make everything more meaningful and beautiful:

-Tell Me Now by Hans Zimmer & Moya Brennan

-The Wind beneath My Wings by Bette Midler.

-The Reason by Hoobastank

- You and Me by Lifehouse

- Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

And, last but certainly NOT least:

-Damnum Et Triumphus by Future World Music.

On with the show!

* * *

**Fulfillment.**

* * *

"I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is the moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious"

Vince Lombardi

* * *

It was as if the world had brightened.

Perfection is unachievable, an evanescent ghost that sneaks into existence from dreams, but on that day it was clear -as clear as the lightened skies- that this was the closest any human had ever come to embrace it.

Perhaps it was the tranquility, the halcyon that settled down upon the hills, or perhaps it was the final and clear note of fulfillment coming from every branch and every stream of water that ran down through the earth but the glory that poured from the bare essence of magic could not be denied.

A soft ray of sunlight filtered down Camelot's tainted windows, illuminating the pale and haggard face of King Arthur, caressing his golden hair and traveling down his regal features to finally find his eyes, open and wide, sky blue and blood-shot.

Sitting on his throne, the King was a vision from another world. Around him the golden rays created a mystical aura of power, a soft and effervescent whisper that carried away the last strands of the dark night and the frosty air. He placed one hand upon his eyes, bringing it down through his face until it rested upon his lips, as an echo of the silence that had surrounded his decision that night.

Finally, he said, "Bring him to me."

As one the two knights that were watching him from the shadowed corners of the room came forth and obeyed his command, closing the wooden doors behind their King as they went out. And the soft breath of air that came with that simple motion made the King sit straighter on his magnificent throne while his eyes closed again.

King Arthur remained quiet and still, one hand fingering the light stubble on his chin and the other settling against the wooden throne. Those eyes that looked haunted before were now bright and full of resolve, as if the light of day had chased away the shadows settling on the deepest of his reason, overcoming what he knew in his heart to be true. But then, it had always been like this, hadn't it? That man had always been a contradiction. A huge, overstated contradiction to everything King Arthur knew.

Yet, strangely, the mood of the world was fluttering near his heart finally settling and nestling against it as a new strange delight filled him, encased him whole. A smile, gentle and true, split his lips and showed his teeth as a quiet sigh escaped them.

He was hoping with all his heart that what he was about to do would turn the tide of everything that had been bothering him for a fortnight, the quiet revelations succeeding one another in order and in magnitude, so trivial and yet so full of meaning for him that he'd spent his time trying to sort out the best way to proceed. But for once, without the voice of the man that had become his right hand there to guide him, he'd come to follow what he knew to be right on his soul, on every fiber of his being.

The warmth that lingered from the newborn sun made his heart swell with joy- again, the feeling was not necessarily unrequested but it was a surprise nonetheless- and the tapping became almost frantic as he waited.

There was so much the King wished he could do, so much he'd better say, but in those moments as the door opened again his mouth ran dry and there was nothing else but the light that erupted from the wide open wooden doors and the figure standing in the middle, the mystery and yet the answer to almost everything the King had tried to wrestle with.

The atmosphere changed, then. The lazy warmth and softness gave its place to a new heart racing intensity that only grew as the dark blue eyes of the tall, gangly man found the King's and a silent communication happened between them. Arthur Pendragon rose from his throne at the same time the warlock took a step forwards, never minding the incredulous looks he received from the various guards and members of the court. Fearless, the man continued advancing.

Arthur, whose eyes never left the man's, came to a halt when they were at barely an arm's length, his eyes suddenly caught in the lead manacles encircling the warlock's narrow wrists.

"Manacles…" said King Arthur, narrowing his eyes at the sight as if it was one of the most terrible things he'd ever imagined, not even in his wildest dreams.

An impish grin illuminated the warlock's face and his tired eyes laughed as he answered, "I am still classified under 'dangerous' Arthur, my loyalties were never taken into account."

Arthur's grave face did not change, if only, it actually became stonier as a frown came down upon his brow. The man in front of him took that moment to let his eyes wander, studying his King's face until his pale forehead had a frown of its own.

"You didn't sleep, did you?"

"No," Arthur replied. His hands started fumbling with the keys on his belt, shaking slightly in his rush to take away from his manservant those…_things_. "Did you expect me to?"

The warlock simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I didn't sleep either." He said.

For a brief moment Arthur saw shadows form in front of his manservant's face as he grasped the right key with his hand and took one resolute step forward.

"Arthur…"

However, he could barely say the word before the King had inserted the key on the lock and a soft click preceded the manacles falling to the floor. The metallic sound reverberated through the chambers as the harbinger of much greater things to come.

The warlock's eyes could barely dare to hope but yet the slight dim spark was there, carefully concealed between guarded sentiments. As he rubbed his wrists he took care not to show the smile that wanted to grow on his face, instead, he titled his head slightly as he looked at his King. Arthur kicked the manacles away with his feet as if it was some disgusting insect before his calloused fingers released his friend's arm and his carefully cool eyes settled on the sun making its way through the windows.

"What are you doing?"

King Arthur glanced at him and his eyes saddened at the obvious maltreated state his manservant was in. Not even after being the savior of all Albion- _once more_- did he get what he deserved and he, Arthur, had been such a fool in overlooking how much he owed the brilliant, big hearted and incredibly selfless man that was now standing in front of him.

With no more preamble and not even a glance at anyone but his soul-brother, his _best friend_ he extended a hand to his left. "Guinevere, please."

Queen Guinevere came forwards with silent tears streaming down her tanned cheeks but the smile that graced her face was as warm as the sun that made Merlin's face a ghostly white and Arthur's locks the color of newborn wheat. With a small bow she placed clothing, carefully arranged and folded, in Arthur's awaiting arms.

With fondness, King Arthur saw Merlin's face come alive with curiosity. He could feel those blue eyes taking in his every move, obviously wondering what he would do next. But the surprise in them was monumental when the casual hand Arthur had placed on his shoulder curled around the collar of the worn, disheveled brown jacket and began tugging it gently.

The warlock froze for a few seconds as he looked into Arthur's eyes and the King returned his gaze, filled with such warmth and profound reassurance that he could do little but obey. The jacket that had accompanied him through hell and back fell to the tidy floor in the same manner the manacles had and before he'd had the time to even question the King once more with his eyes Arthur's arms were suddenly around his neck and an unfamiliar, soft fabric was settling on his back.

Confusion filled him as he watched his King buckling the silver brooch that was pressing its cool rounded self against his neck but it was then when his eyes found Arthur's and the sheer affection in them stopped him from saying anything or let his confusion carry any further. For all he knew, Arthur had accepted him…and that was_ enough_.

It was the most extraordinary sight his eyes ever fell upon, seeing Arthur smooth the wrinkles on the midnight blue cloak with the same care George would, before his King's hands traveled up his arms, finally resting on his shoulders.

Wisely, he did not say a word and was rewarded with a rough squeeze in both of his newly covered shoulders before Arthur's hand dived into his pocket and came out with a long silver cord that preceded one of the most beautiful and ornamented things he'd ever seen. It was a rounded carved sigil, representing a dove with its wings spread apart as it flew into the unknown.

With nothing but another look into his eyes Arthur smoothly slipped the pendant around his throat, in which it hung at the exact height of his heart, swinging softly with each heartbeat that reverberated through the warlock's ribs.

"This belonged to my mother…"Arthur said softly. His fingers traced the dove, pressing his bare palm against it before his hand was on Merlin's shoulder once more. "It bares her sigil."

After a few moments his eyes, brimming with sincerity and a silent plea for a much needed forgiveness, came to rest upon Merlin's. "It's yours now."

Merlin could barely contain the small gasp of surprise that was rising through his throat but he shouldn't have bothered for the incredulous screams from various members of the court and Gwen's sobs and Gwaine's delighted '_yes!_' were enough to cover it.

He felt his eyes fill with tears of incredulity and somewhere in his hazed mind something warned him that this could not be real and it must be a dream and that he'd wake up on Gaius's chambers at any moment. But even if he closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up the marvelous pressure of his hand against the sigil did not fade but rather increased when his hold tightened.

He looked up at Arthur and shook his head. "Arthur… _I can't."_

"It's the least I can do." Arthur interrupted, shaking his head as well, stepping back and interlacing both hands on his back, looking as a child who'd just gifted his biggest hero with the best he could offer. "You are the only one who deserves it."

Merlin's hand, soiled with dirt and residues of blood, grasped the engraved bird disbelievingly until Arthur could see, with lowered eyes, his knuckles turn white.

Silence, not ugly and tainted with resentment but rather solemn although laced with sadness, stretched between them. Arthur imagined he could hear his heartbeat become strenuous when Merlin did not utter a word.

"Merlin…" his voice sounded small and full of remorse to his own ears but he did not chide himself, rather let his eyes trace the face he knew so well for a sign, for _anything_ that would turn the tide and make things alright. "Merlin…" he repeated. And then, so desperate that it was not kingly at all. "Say something _please_."

Finally, those eyes looked up and into his and Merlin sighed before he asked, with such amazement that it made Arthur's heart ache. "You are-you are _forgiving_ me?"

"The question is…" said the King gently, letting a small smile flourish on his lips as the hope he'd had on his chest began to blossom. "Would you forgive _me_?"

Merlin, those eyes beginning to sparkle too with undeniable and utter joy, let a smile cover all of his face, a smile that was the one he'd wore as he woke up Arthur every day during his time as a manservant.

"I do." Merlin said softly.

Arthur felt his own heart swell as those words reached his ears and every inch of his soul leapt with joy. For once, true humility struck them and the pride and pure happiness he felt were incentive to do the one thing he knew he must've done since the moment his manservant came into the room.

For it was not only forgiveness he sought but also the opportunity to give Merlin what he deserved, the recognition and glory that were his and his alone.

And he would do _anything _to give Merlin back at least a little bit of everything he'd taken without even knowing it.

It was then when resolution became a flame upon his chest. Before Merlin's perplexed eyes and the marveled faces of his knights and the court King Arthur went down on one knee, bowing his head before the greatest and truest, most courageous man he'd known.

His Merlin.

He found himself smiling when Guinevere imitated him and Gaius as well, and before long all the knights were down on their knees, bending their heads at Merlin, who was looking around with wide, startled eyes.

When Arthur looked up he found Merlin's eyes upon him, bright and wide with sudden comprehension, raw with an intense emotion that the King could not place. But nonetheless, he cleared his throat and the words came out as solemn as he'd intended them to.

"Merlin of Ealdor." said the King while placing a hand upon Excalibur's hilt. "I, Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, pledge allegiance to you as your friend and ally. Not only are you the bravest, most courageous man that I've ever met-" by this point Arthur noticed that a solitary tear slid down Merlin's cheek and he had to convince himself that the pressure in his eyes was nothing but the result of a restless night. "But the most loyal and selfless friend I've ever had. To you and to your people I make this promise: That by your merits their freedom shall be guaranteed."

An echo of cheerful applause erupted around him and Arthur couldn't help but smile when he saw Merlin nod silently in acceptance but his friend then crouched by his side, boring with those eyes he could hide nothing from into his.

"Stand up, Arthur." He said, and Arthur wondered since when had his clumsy manservant turned so authoritative. "Stand up, please."

He did, another smile beginning to tug his lips upwards, but Merlin barely managed a weak one before he bent down to pick his jacket, folding it gently and pressing it to his chest. "Arthur…what you just did…I don't know if I deserve it."

Arthur had to fight the urge to shake some sense into his friend, reminding himself of his position as King and how ridiculously humble Merlin was. Once more it was as if his heart took the strain and just plainly _hurt_ because he'd foreseen something like this happening and Gaius had actually warned him but no, _no_-this was just unfair for Merlin, unfair for everything he'd ever done. He deserved everything Arthur could give him. And even more.

"You certainly do." his voice was uncharacteristically hoarse as he replied, "And don't try to discuss it, _Mer_lin. You and I both know that you do."

The complete conviction that laced his voice was enough for a smile to blossom in Merlin's lips, a genuine, fond smile that he'd missed seeing during those past few weeks. He had a smile of himself too- and how could he _not_ if Merlin's happiness made his joy wondrously perfect- but before he could give in to his soft side Merlin had beaten him to it, advancing and taking his King in a firm but yet gentle embrace.

In a whisper, low so that only Merlin could hear, Arthur let out the words that sent a jolt through his spine and that he'd reserved for the perfect moment.

"_You are free,_ Merlin." said King Arthur, feeling his friend's heart beat wildly against his ribcage once the words reached his large, ridiculous ears.

_Free._

The reality of what had just happened hit him full force then and a breathy, incredulous laugh made its way through his throat as he released Arthur and found that he, too, looked as if the light of the sun came from within him. It was as if the room was engulfed by breathtaking light…

To his eyes, Arthur truly looked like the Once and Future King. He looked majestic, glowing with pride and dignity. And the smile that illuminated his face matched his.

"Merlin..." said King Arthur softly, sobering up after a few seconds of simply staring into the joyful eyes of his friend, because as much as seeing Merlin truly happy brought him a sense of odd..._accomplishment_, he needed a question answered first. "Would you be my Court Sorcerer, old friend?"

As Merlin turned his incredulous eyes towards him Arthur realized that his level of uneasiness matched the one from the time he'd proposed to Guinevere and felt his cheeks turn bright red at the thought. But he could barely blame himself as fear grasped his heart tightly again, fear that Merlin would realize how truly wonderful he was and how he, Arthur, had been nothing but a fool during too much time and that his friend would find a better place to stay, another king with a big heart that he could serve and pledge an allegiance too. However, he had already made his oath. For everything Merlin had done while asking nothing in return he would follow his former servant, _his truest friend_, until the mouth of hell and beyond.

But his fears were unfounded for Merlin's heart could not be further from his line of thought and the incredulity in his eyes was due to the still new idea of Arthur actually accepting him with all of his lies, with all of his deceit and all of his faults, with his _magic_.

As Merlin stared at him but said nothing Arthur lowered his head, gulping down all of his frustration and self-loathing for being able to drive his friend away. "Of course, if you don't want to-"

"It would be my honor, Arthur." Merlin said quietly, flashing a smile in his direction.

Some of the indescribable happiness Arthur felt must've shown on his face because the next moment Merlin was laughing, a care free, joyful laugh as he shook his head fondly. Geoffrey- God bless his perfect timing- came forth and placed a hand in Arthur's shoulder at the same time that Gwen, Gaius and some of the knights took their respective places.

And before Merlin knew it, Gwaine was pushing him gently forwards and Gaius was directing him a paternal, proud look while Gwen smiled tearfully down at him from Arthur's left and the King himself, his Once and Future King, guided his arm with a gentleness unbeknownst to all until he was standing at the feet of the velvet red throne. He locked his eyes with Arthur as the King let go of his arms and squeezed one shoulder affectionately while Geoffrey's voice rumbled above like the harp of destiny.

"As Court Sorcerer of Camelot and High Advisor to the King, do you swear to uphold Camelot's laws and rights, to bring justice at the measure of your capability and to guide our King at the best of your ability?"

He never knew when it was that he'd fallen to his knees, but he did recall the slightly alarmed look in Arthur's face as his knees slammed against the wood. Tears flowed down his cheeks while the quiet, truthful word left him.

"I do."

"Merlin of Ealdor, do you swear fealty to King Arthur Pendragon, to serve him and only him, to be loyal and true to his name, to rise up his banner above all others?"

Not even a heartbeat later the answer was already flourishing from his lips as he looked up and his right hand flatted against the surface of his own heart. He tried to convey every hope, everything Arthur was in his memory, the courage, the honor, the downright amazing sense of duty...

But mostly, as his eyes found Arthur's and a genuine smile lit up his face, he let himself remember all of those moments in which Arthur's golden heart had shone through, let himself remember how truly Arthur was a lion heart, a man who did not cower at the face of danger..,

And then, there was Arthur, his f_riend_. Not the king or prince or royal prat but just plain Arthur, the one whose cheek's flushed when Guinevere was near, the one who liked to race him at horseback and yet never recognized his servant was always the victor, the one who had grown more open as years went by and had a strange attachment to the sword Merlin had forged for him...

The one who was, in those moments, waiting for an answer with eyes shinning as big as the stars and as blue as the skies.

So, with a hand over his heart, Merlin silently let the pledge he'd never said out loud pass his lips. "I told you once, Arthur that I was glad to be your servant till the day I die. My life is yours, My King. It has always been."

A smile, bigger and brighter than any Merlin had _ever_ seen before, lit up Arthur's face and the king's eyes laughed with mirth as one of his large hands came to rest upon Merlin's now bowed head and before the warlock could look up said hand was already grasping his in a vice like grip, tugging insistently so that he would get up.

"Stand, Merlin of Ealdor." Arthur said gently.

With a small frown of confusion on his face, he did just that, raising to his feet and wondering why was Arthur looking at him so strangely, as if it was the first time he'd ever seen him.

A few moments later he was being pulled into a hug and Arthur's strong arms embraced him, never minding the gasps he could hear around him and Gwaine's - because it_ had_ to be him- low whistle, never minding Guinevere was drying new tears from her eyes and Gaius was having to dry some of his own because it was only Arthur and him, two sides of the same coin, _nothing_ else.

Finally, everything had slotted into place.

He returned the hug, closing his eyes tightly so that he could engrave the moment in his memory, and let a slow giant smile fill his face. Arthur didn't seem to keen of letting go either but after a few moments his King was again standing with both of his shoulders between his calloused hands, looking into his eyes as he guided him, slowly but surely, to his right and the hand that was still on his shoulder grasped it tightly before his King's voice rose once again.

"Take your rightful place beside me, as my friend and advisor, Supreme Authority on Magic and... " with this he let a mischievous, sincere and affectionate grin quirk one corner of his mouth upwards. " and my brother."

The word felt so right that Merlin couldn't stop a grin of his own. And as Arthur once again squeezed his shoulder and ordered servants to bring a bowl full of water so that he could wash and food, 'the very best they could find.' the smile did not fade. With his jacket still pressed firmly against him he let Arthur guide him towards the wooden table and force him to sit in one of the engraved chairs as George poured wine on his cup and Mary filled his plate with more food than what he'd ever eaten, he let Guinevere and the knights fuss over him and Gaius embrace him with the sentiment of a father...

Through it all, not once did Arthur wondered more than an arms length from him, always finding the time to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly until the night fell down and once more it was only him and Arthur, sitting across each other and looking in the eye, trying to stop their faces from splitting into boyish joyful grins. And yes, perhaps perfection is unachievable, unreachable but in those moments it looked only a breath away. Perhaps it was the tranquility, the halcyon that settled down upon the hills, or perhaps it was the final and clear note of fulfillment coming from every branch and every stream of water that ran down through the earth but the glory that poured from the bare essence of magic could not be denied.

For all Merlin knew, he'd never felt more complete.

* * *

There, done!

I hope with all my heart that Arthur_ does_ throw a tantrum when the reveal comes around and I thought the image of Merlin, going from spending the night in the dungeons while Arthur broods alone to practically being treated as royalty ( he deserves far more...) would be a magnificent contrast with all the unsung hero scenes the show practically bases on.

Again, happy birthday Oz! I hope your day is amazing! :) And happy unbirthday to all of you too!

Love,

Ocean.


End file.
